Ha! You’re thinking that I’m such a ninny butt, stupid wench, idiot thinking, LOA poker dealer, that I can’t even figure out that it’s a media pass. Wrong, El-idioso. The most amazing part of this whole WSOP is the media coverage that isn’t. CardPlayer is the do-all, die-all, bury-all, in this little monopoly of reporting. The rest of us can go shake a stick in a dark closet and hope that someone passes by andshouts out tous what’s going on, and even at that, our reporting is better than CardPlayer’s for the most part.

Always and forever, we get ‘tagged’, about the color of our media passes, where we are allowed, where we arent’ allowed, and DON’T FUCKING BREATH UNTIL WE TELL YOU TO! But they want the coverage. Damn right! They want us in there to tell the world how great the WSOP reallly is now that Harrah’s is operating the show. Well…really now?

After I got asked for my media pass – again – when it was hanging around my neck, and I was standing on the sidelines, out of the tournament area, waiting for the big bubble breaking event, John Caldwell (PokerNews and PokerWorks are sister sites) did the appropriate. He displayed his media patch:

Damon and John together as we waited for the glorious event…bubble breaking:

These two guys had the .net covered. The first one is Gareth or ‘Gaz’ and the second is unknown.

unknown

And check out little ms. top dog, wanna be media police – and aren’t female top dogs called BITCH? She was. My first experience with her was when I was standing, at the edge of two tables, just out of the center aisle and traffic, in the tournament area. I had my camera out, waiting for the dealer to move his arm for a shot of the 2s. She walked up, stood there for a half a second, and then shouldered into my arm, trying to knock me out of her way – and then stared at me. She’s all of five foot 3 or 4, so I’d say she’s looking to take on a big piece of piss and gristle if she wants to start knocking me around. I stood my ground. She flamed at me, “You aren’t supposed to be filming here.”

I reflamed, as I stayed right where I was and finished taking the shot I wanted, “I’m not ‘filiming’. I’m taking a picture,” before I walked away, I finished with, “Maybe you aren’t supposed to be filming here.”

A few minutes later, I saw her talking to an ESPN camera guyand pointing to me. I headed right over. Damn, I love confrontation at times. She told him I wasn’t supposed to be filming. I told him I wasn’t ‘filming’, I was taking pictures.”

She disappeared, off into the crowd, just like I would expect from a cur. The ESPN dude said he had no control over any of it. A few minutes later, I was accosted by Nolan Dalla. She sic’ed him on me. I told him I wasn’t filming, I was taking digital stills, as I hit the ‘review’ button and showed him. I could see her standing off in the crowd looking my way. I told him I wouldn’t go against protocol and even try to ‘film’, I knew better than that. He appeared to be flushed and flustered as he said, “I have to find out. You know I have to check.”

I pointed at her, “She sent you over, she has nothing better to do…”

He nodded in acknowledment and told me once again, that he had to check to make sure. Off he went.

Here’s creepy cur, trying to appear as a big dog (and if any of you out there know her, please send her here to read):

This guy had a huge stack of chips and when he stood up to walk around for a few minutes, I asked one of the guys next to him, “Does he knows his .com is showing?” The other players and railbirds in front of me stopped him immediately. He had .net stickers on his hat and front, but the back must have just worn off with movement and the chair.

About an hour later, I was stopped by a floor person, telling me that no red badges were allowed in the tournament area because they (the players) were in the money. What a crock! I didn’t even argue with him. I’d taken almost 300 photos by now, I was hot, tired, and ready to depart. So I did.